Quotes About Loneliness

Y se marcho Bajo la lluvia Sin decir palabra Sin mirarme Y me cubri La cara con las manos Y llore

the disquieting hour before dawn when it feels as if no one else is alive.

Looking at the horizon again, I saw a lone figure coming toward me, but I wasn't frightened because I was sure it was my mother. As I got closer to the figure, I could see that it wasn't my mother, but still I wasn't frightened because I could see that it was a woman.

en blekgul sol som verkade ha försvagats av överansträngning. Men det var soligt i alla fall, vilket var trevligt och lindrade min hemlängtan. Så när jag såg att solen sken klev jag upp och satte mig en klänning. Det var helt fel. Solen sken visserligen men det var kallt i luften. Det var mitten av januari men jag kände inte till att solen kunde skina utan att det blev varmt. Det hade ingen upplyst mig om.

in his frozen sleep, no one could hear his screams.

He felt that although his father loved their home and loved all of them, he was more lonely than the contentment of this family love could help; that it even increased his loneliness, or made it hard for him not to be lonely.

Now go on to sleep then, son," his father said. He saw that the child very badly did not want him to go away, and realized suddenly that he might have lied about being scared, and he was touched, and put his hand on his son's forehead. "You just don't want to be lonesome," he said tenderly; "just like little ole Jackie. You just don't want to be left alone." The child lay still.

By the time I left to go downtown for supper, I was at the high point just short of where intoxication begins to droop into clumsiness or melancholy; and the minute I was outdoors the streets, in the very beautiful late of afternoon weather, improved, that if it can be improved, with the feeling of being alone for a little while, and with the sharp, tender enjoyment of a city I am ordinarily tired in.

The world of reason must be a lonely place," she said.

In the presence of their love I sensed my lonliness, and I understood for a moment, clearly, that deep and basic human desire for companionship at depth.

We got married: society's solution to loneliness, lust and laundry.

Self-seeking breeds loneliness; self-forgetfulness breeds fullness.

God created human beings with a capacity for loneliness so that we would yearn for and find our all in him.

No one is calling me. I can't check the answering machine because I have been here all this time. If I go out, someone may call while I'm out. Then I can check the answering machine when I come back in.

She can't say to herself that it is really over, even though anyone else would say it was over, since he has moved to another city, hasn't been in touch with her in more than a year, and is married to another woman.

The people of the town, though, remained strangers: I could not realize that I must be seeing some of them over and over again, it was as though each passed through only once, as though there were always new strangers coming here. And I felt so much a stranger myself that when, as rarely happened, I crossed the path of someone who knew me, and who spoke to me, I was startled and could hardly answer.

But it is curious how you can see that an idea is absolutely true and correct and yet not believe it deeply enough to act on it. So I still act as though my feelings were the center of everything, and they still cause me to end up alone by the living-room window late at night.

Maybe he also felt angry or insulted, if it occurred to him then or later that maybe he hadn't made a mistake but that I had deliberately stood him up, and not the way I did it — alone up there in the apartment, uncomfortable and embarrassed, chickening out, hiding out — but, he would imagine, in collusion with someone else, a girlfriend or boyfriend, confiding in them, snickering over him.

When there were two of you, you decided so many little things together, such as which room to sit in with your morning coffee. When you were alone, he said, it was so miserably difficult to make those little choices.

How can she eat this fish, cooling on a slab of marble? And yet the fish, too, motionless as it is, and dismantled from its bones, and fleeced of its silver skin, has never been so completely alone as it is now: violated in a final manner and regarded with a weary eye by this woman who has made the latest mistake of her day and done this to it.

Papai, papai!", chamou baixinho. Mas só o cipreste pareceu ter ouvido o apelo: fez um meneio sob o vento e em seguida curvou-se como um velho galhofeiro numa reverência.

Ah! se a gente pudesse se organizar com o equilíbrio das estrelas tão exatas nas suas constelações. Mas parece que a graça está na meia-luz. Na ambiguidade. E até as estrelas, pobrezinhas, equilibradas mas tremendo tanto na solidão.

She'd been shunned by the living and betrayed by the dead.

Flies die in so many lonely places. -Roberta Rohbeson